Abstract
This study explores how everyday interactions in institutional care settings shape identity formation and social inclusion among marginalised youth. Based on ethnographic data, including interviews, observations, and institutional documents from Swedish special youth homes, the analysis combines social pedagogical, interactionist, ethnomethodological, and intersectional perspectives. Narratives from unaccompanied refugees and young people with drug- and crime-related challenges reveal how experiences of trauma, stigmatisation, and contested professional roles intersect to influence self-representation and integration. While some institutional actors offer crucial support, others contribute to exclusion through power-laden practices. A multi-level analysis highlights how explicit conflicts and underlying dynamics shape professional roles and future outcomes. These findings underscore the need for empathetic, inclusive collaboration and contribute to a research-oriented social pedagogy that accounts for identity, power, and cultural context.
Keywords
Introduction
The social pedagogical perspective stresses the importance of including the individual in the community (Eriksson, 2014; Hämäläinen, 2012; Hämäläinen and Eriksson, 2016; Úcar et al., 2020) 1 . Participation in community life is not only essential for individual validation but also plays a crucial role in integrating and reintegrating those who have been stigmatised, such as unaccompanied young refugees with war experiences or young people facing drug- and crime-related challenges in institutional care. Hämäläinen and Eriksson (2016) and Eriksson (2014) highlight how interactions between marginalised individuals and established community members are essential for creating and sustaining identities. From a social pedagogical perspective, the relationships between individuals needing assistance and the professionals supporting them become key to understanding how social inclusion is negotiated. To capture the complexity of these dynamics, this study also draws on intersectional theory, which highlights how power relations and exclusionary norms linked to ethnicity, gender, and migration status shape everyday institutional interactions (Ahmed, 2012; Case, 2016; Crenshaw, 1991; Lykke, 2014).
Recognising that traditional social pedagogical approaches may not fully capture the complexity of these interactions, this study focuses on two central groups. First, we examine the narratives of (1) young people who have experienced war, fled to Sweden and been placed in special youth homes. Second, we analyse the accounts of (2) young people with drug- and crime-related problems. In addition, we consider the perspectives of institutional staff members whose multiple, intersecting identities, such as their work-related, gender, and ethnic identifications, influence their practices and interactions with these youths.
This study aims to explore how identities and roles are constructed, contested, and re-negotiated within institutional care settings through a combined social-pedagogical and ethnomethodological lens. To do this, we first introduce the social pedagogical perspective and its emphasis on community-based identity validation. Next, we introduce the interactionist and ethnomethodological perspective, emphasising how people create meaning within social interactions. Third, we present empirical examples drawn from ethnographic research to show how the youths and staff members navigate these complex interactions and provide examples of social pedagogy in action. The empirical examples are divided into three themes: (1) stigma, identity, and integration, (2) conflict and unsuccessful collaboration, and (3) professional help to the client during the conflict. Finally, we analyse these interactions considering symbolic interactionism and ethnomethodology, discussing the broader implications for social inclusion and the practice of social pedagogy.
The social pedagogical perspective
Social pedagogy combines educational and care practices to support individuals in overcoming barriers to community membership (Eriksson, 2014; Hämäläinen, 2012). It emphasises identity validation and social inclusion through active participation in community life (Hämäläinen and Eriksson, 2016; Úcar et al., 2020). The social pedagogue is seen as a professional guide who supports individuals through personal challenges and facilitates their integration.
In school settings, the concept of social pedagogical recognition shows how teachers combine teaching and student health work by recognising students’ diverse identities (Basic et al., 2021; Hammerin and Basic, 2024). This includes both social identities, such as gender, parenthood, and victimhood, and pedagogical identities like the successful or invisible student, or the respected or marginalised teacher (Kesak and Basic, 2023; Medegård et al., 2022). Acknowledging these identities forms the analytical basis for learning, development, and change.
In the Nordic context, social pedagogy has developed along two main lines: one focused on supporting individuals with special needs, and the other on promoting inclusion through general social care (Hämäläinen, 2012). These strands provide the foundation for applying social pedagogical principles in practice (Eriksson, 2014; Hämäläinen and Eriksson, 2016; Úcar et al., 2020). Eriksson (2014) and Hämäläinen and Eriksson (2016) highlight four key principles: mobilising community support for marginalised individuals; prioritising empathetic professional relationships; using context-sensitive, dynamic methods (e.g., environmental therapy); and engaging in thoughtful dialogue to strengthen connections between professionals and clients.
Building on the work of Eriksson (2014) and Hämäläinen and Eriksson (2016), we identify three key dimensions of social pedagogy in our empirical study: (1) target groups, including young people in care and the institutional staff who support them in contexts shaped by war, drugs, and crime; (2) arenas, such as war, migration, school, institutional, and meeting settings; and (3) roles, ranging from the empathic and competent pedagogue to less effective or even harmful professional behaviours. This framework grounds our analysis in both foundational social pedagogical theory and its application. The analysis explores how these dimensions appear in practice, guiding our analysis of identity formation and role negotiation in institutional care.
An interactionist, ethnomethodological, and intersectional perspective
This study draws on symbolic interactionism and ethnomethodology, alongside an intersectional perspective that foregrounds power relations, exclusionary norms, and diversity within pedagogy (Blumer, 1969/1986; Goffman, 1959/1990; Garfinkel, 2002; Crenshaw, 1991; Case, 2016). While symbolic interactionism focuses on how individuals actively interpret social symbols and construct the self, ethnomethodology examines the everyday methods and sequential practices through which social order is produced in context (Dennis, 2011; Garfinkel, 2002).
Symbolic interactionism and ethnomethodology emphasise that meaning is produced through social interaction, but they differ in focus and approach. Symbolic interactionism explores how individuals interpret symbols and construct meaning concerning others, emphasising the formation of self and identity through these interpretations (Blumer, 1969/1986). Ethnomethodology, by contrast, shifts attention to the methods people use to produce and sustain a shared social reality in everyday settings. As Gubrium and Holstein (1997) note, ethnomethodology is less concerned with defining what the social world is, and more with how it is actively created in practice. These perspectives guide our analysis of narratives from unaccompanied young refugees and young people with drug- and crime-related experiences, as well as institutional staff, focusing on how identities are enacted through language, roles, and gestures within institutional care.
While symbolic interactionism focuses on meaning as something shaped by the individual’s interpretative process, ethnomethodology sees meaning as situated and reflexively tied to the interaction itself. Meaning emerges from detailed, moment-to-moment practices, such as how people take turns in conversation or enact institutional roles (Dennis, 2011). For instance, when a young person in our study described a coordinator as someone who “just sits in and writes things down,” it was not only a comment on the coordinator’s actions but also a reflection of how institutional roles were understood and contested in that interaction (Basic, 2012). From this perspective, the narratives of unaccompanied young refugees and young people with drug- and crime-related experiences are not just stories, they are practices of meaning-making that help us understand how inclusion, exclusion, and identity are negotiated in institutional settings (Scott and Lyman, 1968).
Typification, as described by Berger and Luckmann (1966), is a process through which individuals categorise people and events to make sense of the social world. These typifications are dynamic and shift depending on the situation. For example, a staff member who is seen as supportive in one context might be seen as controlling in another, depending on the young person’s experience and expectations.
Meier and Meyer (2024) argue that ethnomethodological ethnography is unique in its focus on making visible the “orderliness” of social life as it unfolds. Unlike traditional ethnography, which often documents stable cultural patterns or relies on interpretive “thick descriptions,” ethnomethodological ethnography investigates how categories, roles, and social order are produced in real time by members themselves. While both approaches value insider perspectives, ethnomethodology emphasises the detailed, sequential practices that construct these perspectives (Rawls and Lynch, 2024).
Building on this, we apply an intersectional lens to understand how dimensions of power, such as ethnicity, gender, and class, interact in shaping these interactions (Case, 2016; Crenshaw, 1991). Institutions often treat “normality” as objective and desirable, yet what is considered “normal” is rooted in dominant norms that often marginalise difference. Intersectional pedagogy challenges such assumptions, viewing students and clients not as a homogeneous group, but as individuals whose identities and experiences intersect in complex ways (Lykke, 2014; Tengelin et al., 2020). This perspective adds nuance to our analysis of social pedagogical practices by showing how exclusion is both structural and situational. Feminist pedagogy, rooted in critical pedagogy (Freire, 1976), emphasises equality, mutual respect, and the value of personal experience in knowledge production (Bromseth and Sörensdotter, 2014). These ideas resonate with our findings, where participants’ narratives become sites for negotiating inclusion, recognition, and belonging within institutional frameworks.
Through this combined framework, we approach the experiences of war, institutionalisation, and social services not as fixed categories, but as lived processes shaped by interaction and power. The concept of ‘role’ is central, used both as an analytical tool and as a lens to explore how participants describe, contest, or reproduce their own and others’ positions in social and pedagogical contexts (Berger and Luckmann, 1966; Scott and Lyman, 1968). In this way, the study investigates not only how social pedagogical identities are formed but also how they are interactionally achieved and made accountable within Swedish institutional care settings. The empirical sections apply these analytical tools to examine how institutional encounters shape social pedagogical inclusion, or exclusion, in practice.
Ethnographic methodology and variation in the empirical material
This study is grounded in theories of social interaction and self-presentation (Blumer, 1969/1986; Garfinkel, 2002) and uses an ethnographic methodology to examine how narratives contribute to identity construction in social pedagogical settings. Our analysis draws on two qualitative studies based on recorded interviews, ethnographic observations, and documents, inspired by ethnographic approaches (Bryman, 2016; Hammersley and Atkinson, 1983). Ethnographic research values diverse sources, including observations, interviews, and texts (Emerson, Fretz and Shaw, 2011; Gubrium and Holstein, 1999; Hammersley and Atkinson, 1983; Silverman, 2015). This diverse data enabled us to explore how personal narratives (stories) are intricately linked to identity formation and the practice of social pedagogy.
Interviews and ethnographic observations were conducted at several special youth homes in Sweden as part of two research projects. The empirical material includes interviews with 162 participants, both young people and professionals, and 134 observations of meetings, informal gatherings, and visits to youth homes, Social Services offices, and the National Board of Institutional Care. We also analysed media reports and institutional documents concerning unaccompanied young refugees with war experiences and youths with drug- and crime-related challenges in care (Government Offices of Sweden, 2006; Swedish National Board of Institutional Care, 2006, 2009; Aftonbladet 2016, 2018; Sveriges Television 2016, 2017a, 2017b; Upsala nya tidning, 2016; Nyheter 24, 2017; Expressen, 2018).
The first research project, ‘Youth with war experiences in institutional care’, explores how young people who fled war zones and were placed in special youth homes (“HVB homes”), along with staff members, construct and negotiate their identities. The material includes eight interviews with nine staff members, five interviews with six young people from Afghanistan, Iraq, and Syria, and 15 ethnographic observations, and eight media reports (Basic, 2018, 2022; Basic and Matsuda, 2020). Collected between 2016 and 2018, this data enables analysis of how narratives of trauma, resilience, and hope are used to both construct and challenge stigmatised identities within institutional care (see “Social Pedagogy in Action: Stigma, Identity, and Integration”).
The second research project, ‘Conflicts in youth-care – accounts, comparisons and alliances’, investigates a collaborative intervention in Swedish institutional care initiated by the Swedish Government through a commission to the National Board of Institutional Care (NBIC/Statens institutionsstyrelse, SiS). The intervention was named ‘Counteract Violence and Gangs’ (‘MVG project’), and its goal was to improve the collaboration between social services and the NBIC to streamline the interventions for young people taken into care and their families. The intervention took place between 2007 and 2008. The process and the effects of the intervention were reviewed externally by two research groups at Lund University and Stockholm University in Sweden (Basic et al., 2009; Lundström et al., 2012). The research project at Lund University, conducted independently of the intervention, aimed to analyse conflicts, alliances, and comparisons observed in interviews, observations, and documents gathered during and after the intervention’s process evaluation.
The empirical material for this project includes conversational interviews with 147 project participants (young persons in care, their parents, and different professionals from social services, the NBIC, and the project), 119 ethnographic observations of organised meetings, informal encounters before and after interviews and meetings, and visits to institutions, social service offices, and the main offices of the NBIC, and 10 documents published internally and on the Internet by the NBIC as part of an intervention (Basic, 2012; see “Social Pedagogy in Action: Conflict and Unsuccessful Collaboration” and “Social Pedagogy in Action: Professional Help to the Client During the Conflict” below).
Empirical sequences from both projects were categorised as social pedagogical work interviews, observations, and documents. Examples were selected for their analytical strength and their ability to illustrate the interplay between narrative, identity construction, and social pedagogical practice. Our approach focused on analysing language, action, and gesture, key elements through which participants negotiate identity in context. Sequences were chosen based on how they illuminated specific analytical points. The empirical examples are divided into three themes, drawing on ethnographic data from the two projects. We introduce each chapter with a brief prelude for each case that explicitly situates the analysis within a qualitative framework informed by interactionist traditions. This framing clarifies our analytical stance and helps tie the narrative details to the broader theoretical commitments without strictly following the philosophical foundations of symbolic interactionism or ethnomethodology.
Ethical considerations
Due to the sensitivity of the material, ethical awareness and clarity were essential throughout the study. We adopted an active interview approach (Holstein and Gubrium, 1995), engaging as conversational partners to support open dialogue. All participants were informed of the study’s purpose, assured confidentiality, and given the right to withdraw at any time. To protect identities, we altered names and context-specific details. In some cases, we used varied pseudonyms to further minimise the risk of recognition. This was especially important given the emotionally charged accounts and criticism directed at staff and institutions. We were sometimes perceived as affiliated with authorities, which facilitated access but also raised ethical dilemmas. In contrast, young people and parents often saw us as outsiders, enabling more candid conversations. Ethnicity and language played important roles in shaping interactions. One of the researchers, not born in Sweden and speaking Swedish with an accent, was frequently identified as an insider by participants with similar backgrounds. In some interviews, informants used shared cultural references or even code-switched to South Slavic languages. This familiarity may have encouraged openness but also introduced the possibility that certain topics were avoided or assumed to be already understood (Basic, 2012). These dynamics (trust, identification, and difference) undoubtedly influenced both data collection and interpretation. We view this influence as both a limitation and a strength, allowing for deeper cultural insight while reminding us to critically reflect on how our presence shaped the research process.
Social pedagogy in action: Stigma, identity, and integration
Drawing on a qualitative approach informed by interactionist traditions, this analysis explores how narratives of young refugees in institutional care reveal processes of identity formation and stigmatisation. The empirical material, collected during the youths’ early period in Sweden, highlights how traumatic experiences, institutional encounters, and daily interactions contribute to the construction and contestation of identity. In interviews, the young people shared painful memories of fleeing war, escaping Taliban attacks, losing family and friends, and the uncertainty of arriving in Sweden, unsure whether they would be allowed to stay, continue school, or reunite with relatives. Their initial encounters with professionals varied: while some were supportive, others, such as appointed guardians, the Swedish Migration Agency, and social services staff, exercised power in ways that generated fear, conflict, and feelings of degradation (Basic, 2018, 2022).
Despite these challenges, the young people expressed appreciation for life in Sweden, especially the support from staff at their HVB homes and schools. These actors were seen as key to navigating daily life and accessing services. However, their narratives also reflect a stigmatising social climate shaped by bureaucratic delays and unequal treatment, reinforcing emotional distress and exclusion (Basic, 2018, 2022). Empirical field notes further illustrate these dynamics (Basic, 2022: 14–15): The youths explain in English that their existence in Sweden is one of uncertainty; they are both keen to stay permanently in Sweden and to meet their parents again. The parents are still in their homelands. All four say that they attend school in Sweden and would like to go on to further education and work once they have completed school. All four speak positively about their teachers at school, one describing his teacher as being “like my second mother”. The staff they come into contact with at the HVB home are also described in positive terms, as staff who help to cook food, plan day-to-day activities, help with school and even contact with civil servants when the youths so desire (making telephone calls, sending emails, demanding meetings, making demands). One youth says of the head of the HVB home: “he is like a friend who fights for us”. I ask about the nature of this fight: who are the youths fighting against and why? Appointed guardians are described as the most common antagonists, with fights over money that the youths consider they are legally entitled to but that the guardian refuses to hand over. The fight with the social services is over the lack of opportunities and obstacles to contacting their case workers, either by telephone or email. The Swedish Migration Agency decides whether or not the youths are granted leave to remain in Sweden, and their descriptions of the fight against them are laced with well-founded respect and fear. (Field notes)
In the field notes, we can see that the staff members at the “HVB home” and the schools are appreciated. In contrast, the interviewees expressed discontent, conflict, and fear about appointed guardians, social workers, and migration agency personnel. This is a result of the exercise of power by professional actors (Basic, 2022).
Accounts of the young people’s initial period in Sweden provided contradictions and processes of self-creation and stigmatisation. Experiences of escaping war are also contrasted with arriving at a place of peace in Sweden, even though their future in Sweden is uncertain. In an interview with one of the young people, named Arif, he provides a few empirical examples. Despite his experiences of war and flight, he seemed to be in good spirits during the interview and satisfied with his relations with the professional actors, as well as with the other young people whom he met in Sweden (Basic, 2022).
Arif is an unaccompanied young refugee with experiences of war in Afghanistan and now lives at a Swedish special youth home. In the interview, he described his difficult 50-day journey to Sweden via Iran, Turkey, the Balkans, and the western parts of Europe. Being separated from his family in Turkey was described as a particularly traumatic event. However, stories of his life in Sweden are more positive, and the quotes below depict a picture of a contented young person placed in a special youth home who plans to learn Swedish at school, continue to study at university and become a good soccer player. In a conversation about the interactive dynamics of the special youth home where Arif has been placed, the interviewer asks him, “What significance do the other young persons placed in this institution have in your everyday life?” (Basic, 2022: 16): Arif: To be honest, I’m happy living in this youth home. I’m happy with the staff, I’m happy with the kids. They are all kind, and we have contact with everyone and with many other homes. And from what I’ve heard from the others, they are not happy. It is not the same for them as here at our home. Our staff members are kind, we have a kind director who cares, and they work for us and want to make sure we are doing well, and I am happy. Things couldn’t be better. That’s what I think. Goran: Are you saying that your colleagues or your acquaintances who live in another youth home has complained about the staff? Arif: Many of the ones I have spoken to, acquaintances, I have a friends who, who are staying at other youth homes, as I said. And they are not happy with the Staff, they are not happy with the food they make.
In the interview, Arif’s narrative of the exercise of power establishes an image of HVB and the school described in positive terms. The staff are described as dedicated and charismatic and confront other professional actors in play by calling them, demanding meetings, and making demands based on the young people’s wishes and rights. This is a dichotomous image of those wielding power, such as appointed guardians (“the others have not had very good guardians”), social workers, and migration agency staff. The HVB and school staff members are allotted a protective role concerning the young people, who are portrayed as in need of protection from other professional actors (Basic, 2022).
Arif’s narrative also highlights the relevance of an intersectional perspective in understanding experiences of care. His identity as an unaccompanied minor with a migration background intersects with social perceptions of ethnicity, age, and vulnerability. These intersecting dimensions shape both his institutional encounters and how support is extended, or withheld, from him. While Arif describes a relatively positive experience, his comparisons with peers in other homes suggest uneven access to care, possibly structured by normative assumptions about who is “deserving” of support. This variation underscores how structural inequalities can manifest in micro-level interactions and influence feelings of belonging and recognition in institutional settings (Case, 2016; Lykke, 2014).
Negative emotions and online news media
As mentioned, unaccompanied young refugees with encounter of war in institutional care in Sweden are often associated with negative emotions and are victims of degradation, and stigmatisation, especially in news media reports (Aftonbladet, 2016, 2018; Sveriges Television, 2016, 2017a, 2017b; Upsala nya tidning, 2016; Nyheter 24, 2017; Expressen, 2018). Commonly, this group of young people are singled out in the Swedish community, which in turn makes the inclusion and integration process assigned to social pedagogues at special youth homes problematic. Several social pedagogues who work in special youth homes mentioned in conversations that negative media representations make their work with aiding inclusion and integration into Swedish society more difficult (Field notes; Basic and Matsuda, 2020; Basic, 2022).
One example from online Swedish news media includes: “Åkesson: Neighbours should report those who help the undocumented,” ”Why malign refugee children? The spread of rumours on the Internet is extensive and appears to be organised,” “Here is police officer Peter Springare’s controversial post – thousands are now showing their support,” “SVT investigates: gang rapes among unaccompanied refugee boys,” “Wants to report unaccompanied refugee children to the police – for benefit fraud,” “Legal scandal when rapists lie with impunity about their age,” “Charged after rape at a home for unaccompanied refugee children,” and “Åkesson’s counterattack after Lööf’s criticism” (Aftonbladet, 2016, 2018; Sveriges Television, 2016, 2017a, 2017b; Upsala nya tidning, 2016; Nyheter 24, 2017; Expressen, 2018).
In the media coverage analysed, asylum seekers and young males with war experiences, placed in institutions, are portrayed as a generalised type of rapists and benefit fraudsters. These representations reinforce stigmatising images of these youth as a marginalised Other to be kept at a distance, unwelcome (Goffman, 1963/1990; Basic and Matsuda, 2020; Basic, 2022). Media reports on young people at special youth homes in Sweden were discussed with a social pedagogue called Mati (Basic and Matsuda, 2020: 9–10): Mati: I can tell you that I myself have worked as a division manager at several homes and I have contacted the media myself several times to write about things that I think should be written about, and they are not at all interested in writing about those things. I think they are far too positive for the angle they have chosen. But when negative things happen, when unaccompanied refugee children do stupid stuff, so to speak, they are there and they phone and write about things.
According to Goffman, a person is stigmatised when not completely acknowledged in a desirable social identity. In previous research on care receivers, stigma has been the subject of specific attention inspired by Goffman’s (1963/1990) analysis of stigmatisation. Goffman believed it is possible to differentiate amongst three different models of how to live with one’s stigma: being born with it and learning to live with it ‘from the beginning’, not being stigmatised until later in life, or being forced into a new, stigmatising context. Damage to one’s identity in times of war and after war, compared to other youths in Swedish society, and placement in an institution deprived of one’s parents and siblings, creates and strengthens a stigmatised context for adolescents in care, a context that was described in interviews during the study.
Negative media reports regarding youths, politicians’ populist appearances aimed at the youths, and public officials’ (e.g., the police) disapproving opinions about youths are regarded as an additional factor in the stigmatisation and degradation of the entire group (Aftonbladet, 2016, 2018; Sveriges Television, 2016, 2017a, 2017b; Upsala nya tidning, 2016; Nyheter 24, 2017; Expressen, 2018; Basic and Matsuda, 2020). These negative representations in the media do not go unnoticed among the young people themselves. During a conversation in the TV room of an HVB home, one boy tells me: Many people in Sweden don’t like us; the staff here are great, but many people outside the home don’t like us, just read what they write about us on the Internet.” (Field notes; Basic, 2022: 17)
Because of this, the task of achieving inclusion and integration at special youth homes becomes more difficult for the social pedagogues.
Emotional stories
Staff at HVB homes criticise some colleagues’ treatment of young people who have experienced war, sought asylum, and been placed in institutions. Interviews with staff reveal emotionally charged narratives, with some personnel being empathetic and supportive, while others belittle, abuse, and contribute to worsening the youths’ mental health. In such cases, the young people’s goal is described as a planned effort to use (‘rob’) the Swedish community in a greedy manner. In a group interview, critical comments regarding the adolescents and their resistance to inclusion and integration into Swedish society were raised. Nick and Dana stated (Basic and Matsuda, 2020: 11): Dana: They all lie about their age, to begin with /…/ I don’t believe any of them are minors. Nick: Not all of them… Dana: It’s 100%, and it’s a shame, erm, no, no, I mean the ones from Afghanistan, not the others. It’s a shame that they don’t check it. Nick: Now they’ll have to check. Dana: It’s a shame because it makes fools of us all. They’re not children./…/ They just come here for one reason, to steal from society. Nick: Look, how can I describe it… Dana: It’s sad, but true. Me personally, my personal opinion about Afghanistan, I always felt sorry for them, until I got to know them. Nick: Afghanistan, Pakistan – it’s raping and killing … Dana: Now I know 100% that, that those people aren’t at war for no reason. It’s in their genes.
Two other interviewees criticised certain colleagues in special youth homes. They recounted an incident where one employee physically abused an adolescent and described other staff as incompetent and a threat to the rule of law, essentially characterising them as non-community-oriented criminals unfit for working with adolescents. Social pedagogues Nina and Klara discuss this in their interviews (Basic and Matsuda, 2020: 11–12): Nina: There was one young person who, a staff member throttled him. So this young person collapsed and the staff member got him into a room and locked the door. This young person claimed the staff member threatened him: ‘If you report this, I’ll kill you.’ Something like that. He was really scared and didn’t dare tell anyone. Fortunately, some other young people saw it. Klara: Well, the biggest problem is that they don’t have training. They don’t know what they are and are not entitled to do.
Some interviewees asserted their competence by contrasting themselves with other professionals such as youth home staff, social workers, legal guardians, and Swedish Migration Board employees, portraying the latter as less competent. This contrast reinforced their credibility by highlighting perceived shortcomings in others. Competent professionals were described as supportive, organised, and responsive, while incompetent ones were seen as disengaged, confrontational, or unskilled. For clarity, we refer to these roles by specific titles such as ‘caseworker’ or ‘project manager’ rather than the general term social pedagogue (Basic and Matsuda, 2020).
These narratives reveal a complex interplay between past trauma, uncertain integration, and the dual roles professionals play in young refugees’ lives. Whether seen as supportive allies or sources of exclusion, institutional actors significantly shape identity formation and social inclusion in everyday interactions (Basic, 2018, 2022).
Social pedagogy in action: Conflict and unsuccessful collaboration
This section, grounded in interactionist traditions, analyses how conflicts in institutional care reveal the challenges of role negotiation and collaboration in social pedagogy. What may appear as isolated disputes are rooted in deeper dynamics of power, expectations, and institutional structure.
Hämäläinen and Eriksson (2016) argue that successful interaction is essential for integrating marginalised groups, such as young refugees or youths in institutional care. From a social pedagogical perspective, relationships between professionals and those on the margins are central to enabling inclusion (Basic, 2018, 2022; Basic and Matsuda, 2020). However, this requires effective collaboration between various institutional actors. As noted in the MVG project mandate, the Swedish Government emphasised the need to improve cooperation between SiS and social services to better support young people and their families (Basic, 2012: 78; Government Offices of Sweden, Ministry of Health and Social Affairs, 2006): The collaboration forms between SiS and social services shall be improved. The exchange of experiences and knowledge between social services and SiS shall result in the streamlining of the interventions for young persons and their families and networks.
The collaboration agreement between the municipalities and the NBIC stated that ‘The care plan is regulated through a written agreement between the young person/guardian, social services, and the special youth home’ (Appendix II; Basic, 2012: 102; Swedish National Board of Institutional Care, 2009). The vision highlights a consensus in the triad consisting of social services, the youth homes, and the young person and their guardian as a uniform party. The outer framework of the vision is also produced in the project management’s description of the coordinator’s role, emphasising that, among other duties, the coordinator ‘shall’: (a) act as a ‘support for the young person’; (b) act as a ‘link between the young person, social services, and the institution’; (c) ensure that the youth home and social services agree with the young person and their parents, as well as other networks, on a plan as early as possible; (d) ‘focus in particular on the transition between SiS institutional care and other forms of care’; (e) ‘participate in meetings where the period following the SiS placement is discussed’; and (f) ‘follow up on implemented interventions’. In addition, the coordinator (g) ‘should show a genuine interest in the young person and their family and make sure the needs of the young person are not rendered secondary to those of the adults’ (Swedish National Board of Institutional Care, 2006: 1–3). The formulation ‘should’ indicates a lesser obligation compared to “shall,” highlighting the challenge of fully meeting all required duties if the coordinator does not have the will or ability to show genuine interest in the young person and their family.
Above, the coordinator’s role is described as complex, and in an interview, Safet, a youth in institutional care, recounted a conflict during a meeting about his care and treatment. His account shows that the dispute centred not on practical issues concerning his future but on disagreements over points of discussion, decision-making, and the coordinator’s role (Basic, 2012: 11, 64, 120–121, 196): Safet ((a boy in care)): They ((head of the department Freja and caseworker Conny)) have told Carita ((the coordinator)), ‘Okay so, why ARE you the one running this meeting,’ you know MVG are supposed to run the meeting because they send out forms and stuff, °then°, my social worker, she told Carita, ‘ARE you supposed to run this meeting’ and ‘who gave you the green light to do that’ and so on. So, you know, things became a little (.) turbulent. /…/ My social worker told Carita, ‘You are not really in charge of anything, so are you just sitting in or something?’ Carita said, ‘Yes, for the most part I’m just sitting in, I write and stuff,’ then she said, ‘I do not make any decisions.’ So THINGS went something like that, you know. They, they, THEY wanted to be in charge.
From the passages, the conflict arises over who should run meetings and make decisions, rather than being about practical matters like Safet’s leave of care. While it may not appear to concern his immediate future, one interpretation is that it reflects a neglect of his prospects and future.
Freja, the head of the department, recounts the same conflict with much emotion. During her retelling of the incident, Freja is upset. She raises her voice and describes several occasions which include a coordinator named Carita. Freja first talks about a coordinator, Tomas, whom she worked with before Carita. Freja appreciates the structure that Tomas brought to the meeting and the PowerPoint presentations he gave. She also praises him for stimulating the pupil enough ‘to sit still’ during the meeting’s two-and-a-half-hour duration and remaining engaged in the topics being discussed (Field notes). In the following interview sequence, Freja describes Carita’s actions during the first meeting with Safet. The dominance of the coordinator is given great significance: “It is unfathomable to me the amount of power this woman ((Carita, the coordinator)) has” (Basic, 2012: 197–198): Freja: AFTER THIS meeting, we were (.) ((Deep breath)) completely flattened. We looked like a bunch of damn goldfish, just sitting there with our mouths open, ‘WHAT IS THIS?’ ((Deep breath)) I don’t think I have ever been so insulted in my whole career and, uhhh (3) and it was horrible, I MEAN it was horrible.
Basic (2018) suggests that distancing oneself from colleagues’ actions can be an effective way of making certain phenomena more understandable. In this case, Freja invokes distinctions and comparisons between different coordinators. Freja speaks appreciatively of the coordinator named Tomas, whom she met before Carita, but her expectations of Carita do not seem to correspond to how Carita’s actions are described. It appears as if Freja’s expectations of Carita are contrasted with her previous experiences, and this seems to be the point of origin for Freja’s renouncement of the coordinator’s actions. Freja explained the coordinator’s course of action (‘She just powers ahead’) and the lack of action from herself and the other people in the room (‘None of us say anything’). Carita’s actions during the meeting are condemned by Freja, who speaks on behalf of the other officials who felt upset (‘we get completely flattened, we are worthless’).
The interview continues with an emphasis on the practical events of the meeting. Below, Freja highlights Carita’s behaviour, and her account paints a picture of Freja’s and the social welfare workers’ condemnation of the coordinator’s actions (Basic, 2012: 198): The mother and Safet are at the meeting, and then she ((Carita, the coordinator)) walks in, introduces herself and goes, ‘Here is where you will create an implementation plan, and we will have an objective, we will have a goal, and that goal is for Safet to move back home with his mother’ ((Freja is speaking quickly and imitating the coordinator’s voice)). (3) Okayyy ‘right, that is our goal’ ((Freja is speaking quickly and imitating the coordinator’s voice)), °and then the caseworker will° ‘whaaaa,’ this mother has six children there and all of them have been placed in care before. ‘Jesus Christ,’ says the caseworker...
According to Freja, the conflict then spread to the executive level, resulting in the executives deciding that the coordinator Carita should no longer be the coordinator on Safet’s case. According to Freja, the executives involved were the municipal director of social services (Alva), the director of the special youth home where Safet is placed, and the project manager (Sten). Sten was an administrator for the MVG project, in which several coordinators were hired for a variety of tasks, such as facilitating the rehabilitation of young people following a stay at an institution. We can continue to follow the case using field notes after the phone calls with Carita, Alva, and Sten (Basic, 2012: 12): Carita claims that Conny (the social welfare worker) criticised her and signalled that she was not competent enough to run the meetings. After their exchange, Conny had gone to her supervisor (Alva), who in turn contacted Sten. He then, in consultation with Alva, decided to close the case regarding MVG, which meant that young Safet would no longer have a coordinator. Sten’s justification for this decision was that, since Conny and Carita were involved in a conflict, it would be best to stop before this impacted the young person. (Field notes)
The most visible effect of the MVG project, according to Lundström et al. (2012), was a sharp increase in placements at NBIC-run special youth homes (46% in 2007 and 40% across the project’s full duration in 15 municipalities). Notably, 81% of the project’s funding was distributed as municipal subsidies, making placements in closed or closable units more financially attractive than open care alternatives (Basic, 2012: 24).
While Lundström et al. (2012: 64) acknowledge concerns about potential negative effects of such interventions, they found no evidence and did not define what these might be. Coordinators are depicted as unlikely to have contributed to any harm: “on a theoretical basis, it is also difficult to imagine that the coordinators’ efforts would have had a negative impact” (Basic, 2012: 24; Lundström et al., 2012: 64). However, we suggest that it is theoretically plausible to envision a scenario where social pedagogical interventions may have unintended negative effects for young people involved.
The conflict between institutional actors in Safet’s case also invites an intersectional reading. The power struggle between Freja and Carita unfolds not only as a professional disagreement but also as a reflection of how authority is shaped through intersecting dimensions of gender, role expectations, and possibly ethnicity or background. Intersectionality helps us see how coordinators may be perceived differently depending on how they embody or deviate from dominant norms within institutional settings (Case, 2016; Lykke, 2014). Carita’s actions, described by Freja as overly dominant, may reflect deeper tensions around who is recognised as legitimate within the professional hierarchy, and under what conditions support is perceived as appropriate or disruptive. These dynamics suggest that professional roles in social pedagogy are not neutral but are negotiated within broader structures of power and normativity.
This chapter demonstrates that disputes over meeting leadership reflect deeper power dynamics around role legitimacy in institutional care. Safet’s narrative reveals a clear contestation of authority, while Freja’s comparisons between coordinators illustrate how expectations are shaped and negotiated (Basic, 2012; Basic and Matsuda, 2020). A multi-level analysis shows that these conflicts are linked to broader struggles and hidden interests. When left unresolved, such role tensions can lead to systemic changes that negatively affect young people’s care, highlighting the need for more empathetic and effective collaboration among institutional actors.
Social pedagogy in action: Professional help to the client during the conflict
This section applies a qualitative, interactionist-informed approach to examine how professional support is enacted and contested during conflict. By analysing empirical sequences, we seek to understand not just what happens in a social pedagogical context, but how it happens, both explicitly and implicitly.
Fangen (2005: 224–250) outlines three analytical levels that guide our approach. At the first level, we describe what is observed using participants’ own terms (Basic, 2012: 62–65; Fangen, 2005: 224–227). For example, Safet describes a conflict not about his care but about who holds decision-making power during a meeting. At the second level, we interpret sequences through theory and prior research to identify implicit meanings (Basic, 2012: 62–65; Fangen, 2005:228–240). Safet’s critique of Freja and Conny, and the expectations placed on the coordinator Carita, reveal tensions surrounding institutional roles. The third level involves uncovering hidden interests and underlying power dynamics (Basic, 2012: 62–65; Fangen, 2005: 240–250). Safet’s emphasis on the MVG project and his depiction of alliances between staff suggest efforts to preserve routine and avoid change.
Fangen (2005: 264) also discusses analytical induction, a process of refining theory through back-and-forth movement between data and interpretation (Basic, 2012; Becker, 1998; Katz, 2001). In our case, contrasting narratives from Safet and Freja provide two perspectives on the same event. Additionally, Safet later describes the coordinator as supportive in a conflict with institutional staff, complicating earlier accounts and offering a more nuanced view of professional roles (Basic, 2012: 65). Safet: So, so she (.) SHE ((Carita, the coordinator)) has for example helped me with something previously. I reported one of the staff members to the police for uhhh violation and abuse, and then (.) she, you know, explained the rules at the °institution° to me. YOU know, they didn’t, didn’t follow the rules.
In the context, the implicit meaning of the coordinator’s role highlighted during the interpretation of the second degree, which was running meetings and sending out notices of said meetings to the parties involved, is challenged. The coordinator’s role (or actions) is highlighted in this context by the emphasis used in the depiction, ‘she (.) SHE’. The coordinator is now also portrayed as an actor who, in practice, helped Safet during his conflict with the staff at the institution in question. The help is also specified; Safet received legal help from the coordinator, who is thereby construed as a competent social pedagogue. An intersectional lens also helps to unpack how Safet’s experiences with professional actors, particularly Carita, are shaped by more than the institutional role alone. The recognition of Carita as both marginalised and supportive may reflect how her professional legitimacy is interpreted through intersecting dimensions such as gender, ethnicity, or perceived institutional authority. As feminist and intersectional scholars have noted, power and recognition in care settings are not only organisational but also socially situated, influenced by broader norms around whose support is seen as valid, and under what conditions (Case, 2016; Lykke, 2014). Carita’s fluctuating status in Safet’s narrative, from disregarded to protective, illustrates how intersecting social markers can shape both conflict and collaboration in institutional care.
Drawing on multi-level analysis (Basic, 2012; Becker, 1998; Fangen, 2005; Katz, 2001), our findings reveal that conflicts over meeting leadership are not merely procedural. Safet’s account clearly shows a dispute over who should lead and make decisions, which signals deeper misalignments in role expectations. The coordinator’s role, expected to organise meetings and provide support, is contested, with tensions emerging between mechanisms of control and assistance.
Conclusion
This study set out to explore how everyday interactions in institutional care shape identity formation, role negotiation, and social inclusion for marginalised groups, particularly unaccompanied young refugees and young people facing drug- and crime-related challenges. Drawing on qualitative methods and guided by symbolic interactionism and ethnomethodology (Blumer, 1969/1986; Garfinkel, 2002), we have shown that institutional conflicts, such as disputes over role responsibilities, reflect deeper power dynamics that significantly affect young people’s lived experiences and future trajectories.
Our findings highlight the importance of social pedagogical recognition: the active acknowledgement of both social (ethnicity, gender, victim identity) and pedagogical identities (Basic et al., 2021; Kesak and Basic, 2023; Medegård et al., 2022). This recognition is not only essential for individual development and inclusion but also forms the analytical foundation for meaningful pedagogical practice and institutional collaboration. Without it, even well-intended interventions risk reinforcing existing inequalities or failing to support those they aim to help. Throughout the study, narratives from both care recipients and institutional staff revealed how identity is negotiated through interaction, often in contested spaces marked by asymmetrical power. Safet’s and Freja’s accounts, for instance, underscore how role ambiguity and lack of coordination can compromise the integrity of social pedagogical work (Basic, 2018, 2022; Basic and Matsuda, 2020).
Incorporating an intersectional perspective, our analysis also shows how structural inequalities linked to ethnicity, migration status, and age intersect with institutional practices. These factors shape how inclusion, authority, and legitimacy are experienced and assigned in everyday interactions (Crenshaw, 1991; Lykke, 2014). Insights from feminist and postcolonial theory further emphasise that power operates not only through explicit actions but also through more subtle forms of categorisation, exclusion, and norm-setting (Ahmed, 2012; Said, 1978). Recognising these mechanisms is vital for developing a critically informed social pedagogy that actively challenges, rather than reproduces, systemic inequalities.
Ethically, conducting research in such sensitive contexts demanded a strong focus on confidentiality, positionality, and the power dynamics inherent in fieldwork. The role of the researcher, sometimes perceived as an authority figure, was carefully navigated, and personal background and language use influenced how trust was established and what was shared. These reflections remind us that ethical responsibility extends beyond consent procedures and includes an ongoing attentiveness to how research relationships shape knowledge production.
Although this study focuses on selected cases within Swedish institutional care, the findings offer transferable insights into how relational processes and role negotiations function across various contexts, such as schools, police work, healthcare, and other welfare institutions (Basic, 2012; Fangen, 2005; Mathiesen, 1965). The study contributes to multiple disciplines, including sociology, education, social work, and social pedagogy, by raising important questions about how institutional structures mediate stigma, identity, and inclusion.
In sum, this article provides accounts of how identity and social order are constructed and contested through everyday interactions in care settings. It underscores the need for empathetic, inclusive, and reflective collaboration among institutional actors to support young people more effectively. We believe that this article serves as a valuable introduction to symbolic interactionism and ethnomethodology for scholars deciding which approach to adopt in their research. It may also act as a reference point for practitioners and researchers working on social pedagogical issues within and beyond the Nordic context.
Footnotes
Author contributions
Conceptualization, G.B.; methodology, G.B.; software, G.B. and SY; validation, G.B. and SY; formal analysis, G.B.; investigation, G.B. and SY; resources, G.B. and SY; data curation, G.B.; writing—original draft preparation, G.B.; writing—review and editing, G.B. and SY; visualization, G.B. and SY; supervision, G.B.; project administration, G.B. All authors have read and agreed to the published version of the manuscript.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The authors disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported by the Research Environment Research in Inclusion, Democracy and Equity (RIDE) and the Linnaeus Knowledge Environment: Education in change and Questioned Democracy.
